Song of the Bamboo Forest
by Yuki Scorpio
Summary: Meet Rikkai, one of the largest and the most powerful yakuza syndicates in Japan. AU.


Sanada disliked this place.

The stench of the back streets seemed to cling to him in layers of oil, dirt and exhaust fumes. So much for "Pearl of the Orient" – Hong Kong was more like the anus. Sanada thought walking through the back streets of Mong Kok was like walking through the sewers.

The air conditioning was good, though, Sanada could give them that. Hong Kong did not hold back with its electricity. The suite was a comfortable 18C rather than the regular 22C in most so-called "air conditioned" rooms in Japan, making him want to relax in bed right away. But before rest, a shower first, to wash away the imagined grime on his skin.

He wasn't obsessive about cleanliness. He knew, as he stepped into the shower and let water cascade over him, that he found everything wrong about Hong Kong only because he wanted to go home. The Hong Kong Police were not fools; they watched him the whole time he was here, only turning a blind eye when they realised his target was Higa. And despite the excellent hotel and food, weeks of being watched and living out of a suitcase had taken its toll. He had had enough.

His place wasn't here.

The phone was ringing when he left the bathroom.

"Genichirou."

Hearing the voice, Sanada adjusted the towel around his hips and sat down on his bed, feeling uncomfortable with his state of undress. Even if it was over the phone, speaking to Yukimura like this was disrespectful.

"Young Master."

"For the last time, stop calling me that."

Sanada did not try to argue. "The work today – "

"Has gone well. If it hadn't, you would have called me ages ago," Yukimura said quietly but surely. "Renji has the ones over in Taiwan dealt with." He exhaled slowly. "Now that all branches of Higa have been crushed and Midoriyama appropriately cautioned, a lot of people will suddenly remember where their loyalty lies and why it should not change simply because my father is dead."

"They will certainly recognise you as the new indisputable kumichou of Rikkai."

"Rather than the crippled son who got lucky and landed the job."

"Young Master – "

"I know what people say," Yukimura's voice filtered through the receiver, soft, yet cold as ice, "which is why I sent you. Left any longer or dealt with by a lesser man, and one day even Ginka would try to walk all over us."

"Ah." Sanada simply said. Yukimura might not be as physically active these days, but his eyes and ears were still open.

"Therefore I hope you'd crushed Higa into many little pieces."

"I let Akaya run loose." In Akaya's own words, Higa was not merely crushed, but ground down into a fine powder.

"Excellent." Yukimura laughed. "Though I was hoping to go to Hong Kong for holiday some day."

"It won't be traced back to us." At least not officially. But those who needed to know, would know.

There was a brief period of silence before Yukimura spoke again. "I wanted to say 'go and take a well-deserved break,' but unfortunately the circumstances don't allow for it. Come home on the first flight you can get on; there are matters I must discuss with you in person."

Sanada nodded, even though Yukimura could not see. He had no idea what those matters could be – Yukimura sounded just like always, not giving anything away – but he had no desire to stay in this city any longer than necessary anyway. Akaya might protest about having to return so soon, but the youngster would just have to deal with it.

"See you later."

"Yes, Young Master."

As expected, Akaya started complaining the moment he was told they had to leave right away. If Sanada mentioned it was an order from Yukimura-kumichou, Akaya would have listened and packed his suitcase in an instant, but Sanada thought it was about time to knock some discipline into the kid. Being a former bosozoku did not mean disobedience was acceptable, and Akaya was his responsibility, not Yukimura's.

That temper needed to be tamed, too. Sanada had to put a hand on Akaya's shoulder to stop him from blowing up at the airport security who confiscated his bottle of juice. On the plane, he made Akaya take the window seat.

"But I want the aisle!" said Akaya.

"Why?" Sanada followed Akaya's gaze, then he knew why. The air stewardesses. "No. Sit down, Akaya."

"You-"

"Sit. Down."

"Asshole," Akaya grumped as he sat, "you're taking away my fun."

Akaya was the most insolent kobun Sanada had ever had the misfortune to lead. Any other man would have expelled him long ago. Even now, Sanada asked why he brought this upon himself, and why he still put up with it. "We aren't a street gang or perverts on the train. I will not allow you to shame the organisation."

That shut Akaya up. The Rikkai pride was what bonded all the members, and Akaya was fiercely protective of this adoptive family of his, despite his constant insolence. This Sanada knew well.

Deflated now, Akaya held his chin in a palm and looked out the window. "I did good though, didn't I?"

"Hn." Sanada leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

"You'll tell kumichou, right? I crushed every single person who said anything bad about him."

"I've told him already." Not in great detail, but it wasn't as if Yukimura would not hear all about it from Akaya anyway.

Akaya looked at Sanada for a while. "Thanks," he muttered, but his attention was gone when a stewardess walked by, wiggling her well-rounded buttocks, clad by the tight uniform skirt. If only he could sit at the aisle.

"But you're still a bastard."

Sanada cared very little about how Akaya thought about him.

The flight was short, but Sanada took a nap anyway, once he was convinced Akaya would not cause trouble. Rest had been rare whenever Akaya was present, particularly in the last few weeks, when all the kid wanted to do was tear Higa apart. They had set out to do that, but it took time to set it all up so that they could execute the plan flawlessly, and simultaneously with Renji's operation in Taiwan. Keeping Akaya on a leash for a month was not good for anyone's health.

Apparently his weariness was obvious. It was the first thing Renji commented on when they returned to the Kanagawa base after a journey that felt like it would take forever. Renji's flight had touched down earlier in the day and he had come back before Sanada.

"You don't look so good."

"A month of Akaya."

Renji laughed. Sanada was not so amused.

"He may be a bit taxing, but he's a good child."

"You have a very special interpretation of the word 'good'," Sanada said as he pulled out the monkey-picked tie guan yin from his luggage. It was difficult to find genuine monkey-picked teas these days.

"You are the one who took him in and drank sake with him. If you hadn't, I would've gladly taken him as my charge." Renji looked at the cans of tea leaves, "do I not get a souvenir too, Genichirou?"

An eyebrow rose on Sanada's face. "Did you get me anything in Taiwan?"

"No."

They stared at each other for a moment and began to chuckle.

"Well, I presume kumichou will be sharing the tea with us anyway," Renji's hand was on the door, "he wants to see us now."

Yukimura's office used to be on the second floor. Sanada didn't remember it having been moved until Renji walked straight past the staircase, going towards the east wing instead of up. Sanada followed, catching a trainee's attention and giving him the tea leaves for brewing.

After knocking, they pushed open the double doors and entered Yukimura's relocated office. Yukimura shakily stood, and smiled. "Welcome back."

The pair stopped in their tracks. "Your legs..."

"Only good enough to stand up for a little while," Yukimura lowered himself back down into the chair, putting his crutches aside. "It makes a dramatic difference. At least I can piss by myself now."

"That's great improvement in just a few weeks," said Sanada, "perhaps soon in the future – "

"I've lost coordination control below the knees, Genichirou. I won't walk again."

"My apologies."

"I suppose I will wait and see. They're optimistic about my customised prosthetics," there was not a trace of hurt or anger in Yukimura's voice. "But right now I can stand up, that's important; sitting down all the time would give me piles."

Sanada laughed despite himself. Yukimura gestured for them to sit down.

Yukimura folded his arms on the oaken desk in front of him. Seated behind the desk, he seemed like a normal, healthy person, just like Sanada and Renji. His gaze was sharp as he observed the two men in front of him, shredding away layers of pretence. "It was hard work," he said simply, not giving a chance for the two men to say otherwise. "A job well done."

Sanada and Renji dipped their heads, not accepting the praise nor denying Yukimura's words. Someone knocked on the door, and a trainee entered to serve them tea. After he left, Renji got up to lock the door.

Aroma of the tea filled the room. Yukimura's mind was not on the tea, however. "The late kumichou was in talks with Seigaku and preparation of a sake-sharing ceremony was underway. I wish to continue this and seal our bond with Tezuka's organisation. What is your view on this, as the underboss and advisor?"

"It's the right decision. Tezuka Kunimitsu is a good leader and Seigaku shows potential. Most importantly, we share similar values," although Seigaku was a rare right-to-neutral syndicate whereas Rikkai, like most others, were rightists. But that mattered little in the greater scheme of things.

"Renji?"

"Give me your word and I will have the ceremony prepared."

"I will get in touch with Tezuka, then." Yukimura sipped the tea, put it down, and reached down both sides of his seat with his hands. It was then Sanada realised Yukimura was using the wheelchair all along. Yukimura wheeled around the desk to bring himself right in front of Sanada and Renji, their knees almost touching.

"The next thing I have to say must not leave these four walls until I give the specific permission."

Both Sanada and Renji unconsciously straightened themselves. Yukimura had never said anything like this before; there never was a need to.

"This," Yukimura grabbed his own thighs, squeezing hard, "was not an accident."

* * *

When Yukimura finished, he waited, letting Sanada and Renji digest the information he had just disclosed. In the meanwhile he poured more hot tea for them all. Sanada almost fell off his seat seeing that, and rushed to take the teapot away, although it was already too late.

"What, you think I'm too invalid to even pour some tea?"

Sanada did not appreciate the humour. "Young Master, the kumichou does not pour tea for anyone."

"I just did. What are you going to do about it?" Yukimura arched an eyebrow, a hint of a challenge in his voice. "Are you going to lecture your _Young Master_?"

Lips pressed together into a thin line, Sanada kept his frustration to himself. Yukimura hated being called that. It was a title Yukimura's late father told them to use, to show Yukimura Seiichi's status, and to, Sanada knew, keep some distance between his son and the others in the organisation. The yakuza depended heavily on trust and kinship, but as the future kumichou, he had to have superiority. And superiority was a difficult thing when one was too close to those he meant to lead.

Now that his father was gone, Yukimura wanted them to stop calling him that. "Kumichou" he could deal with – he had no choice – but he disliked his other title. Old habits died hard, though, and Sanada just could not change. For years, everyone, Sanada in particular, bowed their heads and said "Young Master", not daring to look at Yukimura in the eye when the old boss was in the same room. In that sense, Sanada was terrified of the old boss; that man knew a lot of things. Too many things.

Ignoring the exchange, Renji sipped his cup of tea, drinking in the scent as well as the taste. "This is good tea."

Sanada silently thanked his comrade for saving him whilst Yukimura agreed. "It is. You bought this in Hong Kong?"

"There are a few famous old tea houses." Sanada looked down again.

"Thank you."

"Not at all."

They drank without another word for a few minutes, then Renji put his cup down. "If you'd excuse us, kumichou, we'd like to spend the rest of today resting and catching up with the business."

"Certainly. Send Akaya to me if you see him."

The door shut heavily behind them.

"You're shaking, Genichirou."

"I know."

For a moment it looked as though Renji was going to sigh and leave, but he turned to Sanada instead, his voice low, so that Yukimura would not hear him in the office. "Kumichou knows what he is doing. He only tells us now because both of us would have tried to take down Nagoya Seitoku right away."

Sanada nodded. That would only have led to disaster. Higa had dealings with Nagoya Seitoku, they were the ones to help that group of foreigners set up base in the first place, and were no doubt paid very well for it. Higa would stand in line with Nagoya Seitoku and Rikkai, shaken with the loss of their boss, would not have been ready for a war of this kind.

But now they had war on their hands. With Higa crushed so completely by Rikkai, Nagoya Seitoku would know that their part in the carefully staged car accident did not go unnoticed. Perhaps they thought Rikkai would fall apart, that Yukimura Seiichi, although only crippled and not dead as they wanted, would not be able to hold the organisation together. They were very wrong.

"It makes our alliance with Seigaku all the more urgent," said Renji. "Seiichi's hold on the syndicate is now much firmer, but with his current condition, I would rather not take chances."

There was very little Sanada could do but nod, his mind on nothing else except that the late kumichou was killed, and Yukimura robbed of his mobility not by an accident, but by an ambitious foreign mafia wanting to expand into Asia. They knew they could not take Rikkai head-on and so tried to kill the boss and his heir both, and there was absolutely no honour in the method they chose.

Sanada needed to calm his head. "I'm going to have a soak." He turned and left abruptly, knowing Renji would not take offence.

Rikkai's base was built over one of the small hot springs outlet in Kanagawa, and one of the previous bosses had part of the west wing converted into a small bathhouse. It was early morning, some people were asleep, some out drinking and finding women, others checking the establishments in their control zone. At this sort of time, the bathhouse was always empty. Sanada got a clean towel, left his clothes in the basket, sat down near a tap and began to scrub.

He said nothing when Akaya appeared, pulled up a small stool behind him and helped him with his back. Later on Sanada would scrub Akaya's back, even though he was the teenager's superior. This extremely unusual custom was apparently started by one of the previous kumichous. Whether that was true or not Sanada didn't care, but if Akaya was going to be in the same onsen as him, then it was the logical thing to do.

Akaya's hands slowed, his voice joining the sounds of dripping taps and water splashing onto tiled floor. "Sanada-san, how long did all this take?"

"What?"

"The forest, the tiger, all that?" Akaya scrubbed hard over the permanent ink embedded under Sanada's skin. As the towel dragged on the skin, it almost looked as though the forest was alive, the trees rustling because of wind or some dangerous creature hidden amongst them.

Sanada counted the years. Had it been that long already? "13 years."

"So when you were like... 30?"

Sanada shot the grinning teenager a glare. "I was a bit younger than you when I started."

The hands on Sanada's back worked harder, as if trying to scrub the skin raw, but that only made Sanada sigh with relaxation.

"Yanagi-san said you got a bit done every time you've achieved something for Rikkai. He said your skin's your trophy board."

"Hm."

Akaya had heard other things. Sanada the loyal, his skin covered tattoos and every joint of his fingers intact. Sanada, who could induce fear in anyone with just a shout. He didn't even know his superior had such a reputation until he saw the look on people's faces when he told them Sanada Genichirou was his oyabun. Not that it made the man any more likeable, of course.

"The thing about being an old pro's that you're old," Akaya said. "I'm gonna get all my tattoos done everywhere before I'm old like you. Just you watch. I'm gonna be better than you, better than Yanagi-san and Yukimura-kumichou and everyone." He slapped Sanada's back. "Swap."

Sanada had to bite back a smile when he turned around and grabbed a towel to work on Akaya's back. Tomorrow, Akaya would wake up and be back to his life in the low ranks, washing floors, cleaning shoes, standing guard, servicing his seniors. But for now, Akaya was a man with huge dreams and the potential to realise them all.

"Ow fuck, you tryin' to kill me?"

"Tattoos will hurt a lot more."

Even Akaya could tell this was Sanada's roundabout way to say he looked forward to Akaya's progress. He closed his mouth and said nothing more.

The actual soak itself was uneventful, and did very little in clearing Sanada's mind. In the past, trying to surpass Yukimura would be like trying to climb the Everest barehanded. No doubt Akaya had meant to be better than Yukimura in his tact, wisdom and charisma, but now every time Sanada thought of his boss, he could hear the sound of the two-way door, swinging open and close when Yukimura was rushed to the emergency room, the man eerily serene from whatever drug he received in the ambulance, telling Sanada not to worry and to take care of things at home. He could hear the quiet noise of the wheelchair, a bit like a well-oiled bicycle, the spokes on the wheels catching the light as they turned. He could see Yukimura being pragmatic about it all, even joking about his own immobility to cheer Sanada up.

All this because of those fucking foreigners.

Sending Sanada and Renji away was a risky move, but also a necessary move. They had enough experience to operate overseas, and Higa had to be dealt with right away. Back here, Yukimura had Marui and the others to ensure his safety. Yukimura knew his men. If he had revealed the fact that it was attempted murder, Sanada and Renji would have refused to go abroad, even if it meant losing the tip of a finger for disobedience.

Sanada got out of the onsen first. If he stayed any longer, he would want to go to sleep, and he had business to catch up with. The research on Nagoya Seitoku and the plan to eliminate them was obviously Renji's task – he was a lot better at that sort of thing – so Sanada would have to look after everything else. It wasn't as bad as it seemed, because Rikkai was organised enough for each faction to take care of themselves, mostly. And Sanada knew he could do it – he had gotten Rikkai through its darkest period, when the kumichou was dead and his successor in hospital.

There had been whispers, that Sanada would have made a better kumichou than the crippled Yukimura. Those stopped after Sanada threatened to rip out the offending vocal chords. It wasn't something done just out of respect; Yukimura was a born leader, Sanada understood that well enough.

And he was right. It turned out Yukimura had most things taken care of in Sanada's absence, leaving him with little to do. Having been awake for almost 24 hours now, he decided he could rest.

There was light coming through the gaps of the doors when Sanada passed by the east wing office. Curious, he knocked, and entered when there was no answer, and found Yukimura asleep on the desk.

"Young Master," he roused Yukimura awake, frowning when the man rubbed his eyes with the back of a hand.

"Have you been working all this time?"

"Just playing on the computer." Yukimura pointed at the screen. There was an unfinished solitaire game. "I'll go to bed now." He waved Sanada off when the man stepped behind him. "No, I'll manage."

"The servants are asleep. I'll put you in bed."

"I said I'll manage," Yukimura's hands were on the chair's wheels, stopping Sanada from pushing it. "I can get myself into bed."

"But Young Master..."

"Shut up."

Yukimura was angered. Sanada let go of the wheelchair, stepped back and bowed deeply. The wheelchair pulled away from him, stopping when someone knocked on the door.

"Come in."

"I was wondering why the lights were still on," Renji said as he entered the office. "Have you been working all this time?"

"Just playing on the computer." Yukimura glanced at Sanada briefly, looking amused yet annoyed that this was exactly the same conversation they had a minute ago. Sanada kept his head low. "I'm going to bed. Renji."

Renji held open the door to let Yukimura out. The kumichou stopped right outside, so that Renji could push him the rest of the way, and probably help him into bed. Casting a worried glance at Sanada, Renji let the door close.

Only when the door was fully shut did Sanada straighten himself.

* * *

The ceremony with Seigaku had been prepared, the top officials from both sides invited. Seigaku would be coming to Kanagawa, in honour of the late Rikkai boss who passed away so suddenly.

"At least that solves the problem of whose turf it should be held on," muttered Sanada.

"It's a little rushed, but this will take place in a week's time, followed by the banquet straight after. Seigaku will be our guests," said Renji.

"Banquet?"

"In celebration of the installation of the new kumichou. And when Seiichi decides the time is right, we'll need to hold a public funeral for the late kumichou as well."

Sanada had completely forgotten about that. Their mourning period was over, so it was time to formally commemorate Yukimura Seiichi becoming the new boss. "Thanks for organising all this. I wouldn't have remembered."

"Organising and strategising are what I'm here for."

"But do we really want to throw the banquet? Large crowds of people make protecting kumichou very difficult. We aren't dealing with men with honour here."

Renji sighed. "Honour is a rare thing these days. And it's not a matter of whether we want to or not, it's that we have to. I've sent Niou and a few others to select some chefs, dancers and singers from the establishments, and have a guest list drawn up. Here's the menu."

Sanada took the piece of paper and read. "I'd tell Niou to bring in someone from Kaizuka. Seiichi likes their grilled fish," he handed the menu back to Renji, and saw Renji staring at him. "What?"

"You said 'Seiichi'."

"So?"

"I haven't heard you call him that for a long long time." Renji was nostalgic. "4 years, 2 months and 15 days."

"You still freak me out sometimes."

Renji chuckled. "You are changing the topic."

"There is nothing to talk about."

Small eyes behind long eyelashes studied Sanada for a few moments, then Renji decided to let the matter drop.

"What do you think of our current situation?"

"We'll bait Nagoya Seitoku if that's what the kumichou wants."

"But you don't agree with it. It puts him in danger."

Sanada didn't reply to that. His opinion didn't matter. "He isn't afraid. He's taunting them, making them fret over our alliance with Seigaku, and then when they're shitting in their pants he'll grab them and make them shit some more."

"Rikkai always takes revenge."

"Anyone messes with us, we pay them back tenfold." Sanada's expression darkened. He stormed off, his anger once again stirred. He didn't disagree with baiting the foreigners – he just disagreed with waiting to tear them apart limb by limb.

It would not be unlike those gang wars from twenty, thirty years ago the old godfathers used to talk about, fought in broad daylight with guns, knives and sheer passion, ending in a bloodbath. Sanada could understand the choice Yukimura made about keeping it quiet for now – all of the members would be up in arms and there would be no way to stop them. And he would not have open war and his gang shedding blood unless he had no choice.

The times were different now, and Yukimura was different. The late kumichou was right about not letting his son grow too close to the gang, though he had probably done it too late. But the time were different. Perhaps Yukimura's management style was what was needed to carry Rikkai forward. The old ways would not necessarily work anymore.

But although Sanada understood all the reasoning behind it and was sure Yukimura had very cruel things planned for their foreign friends, he simply found it too difficult to just wait. He almost wished he hadn't been told.

He made a call for someone to make sure he had a suit for the banquet, and delegated the rest of the day's tasks to a few minor bosses. Today he wasn't in the mood. May be he could look for Niou later, that man would be able to find a pretty film star and a nice hotel room for Sanada to enjoy her in. Or he could grab Renji and drink with him in one of the bars Rikkai "looked after", and get Jackal to drive them back afterwards. There were a lot of things Sanada could do, but few he liked to do so early in the day. In the end, he chose the dojo.

Kendo was one of the things the old boss advocated, "for strength of body and sharpness of mind," he used to say. He enjoyed both practising it and watching it, making his kobun learn the art and spar for his pleasure. Sanada was a late starter, but had learned it better than many of his seniors had. Whilst most of the others saw it as an obligation and a way to please their boss, Sanada actually enjoyed it and practised heavily, usually on his own or with Renji, if Renji could spare a moment from his reading.

Yukimura used to practise, too.

Even though he was tired and panting from exertion, he didn't miss the sound of the footsteps and wheelchair. Sanada stopped, sweat running down his face and dripping from his chin, as two junior members removed their shoes, stepped into the dojo and rolled out a strip of carpet, which protected the wooden floor as a man pushed Yukimura in.

"Kumichou," Sanada greeted. "Yagyuu. When did you come back?"

"Just this morning, Sanada-san." Wearing a suit, the Rikkai badge pinned neatly on the lapel, Yagyuu had made sure he was dressed the way a yakuza member should when out on official business. "The deal with San Francisco has been secured, and I don't want to miss the ceremony or the banquet, so here I am."

"We were talking when I heard that you're practising. Continue. I just feel like watching," said Yukimura. He turned his head a bit. "Yagyuu, go and start preparing Niou and Akaya's lessons. I'll have them start as soon as possible."

Yagyuu bowed and left, gesturing for the juniors to follow him.

"Lessons?" The shinai by his side, its rounded tip touching the floor, Sanada had no intention to practise anymore. Not with Yukimura watching.

"I've assigned Yagyuu to teach Niou and Akaya English." Yukimura was all smiles.

"But they can barely read Japanese!"

"I wouldn't say that. They have both finished junior high."

"But why?"

Yukimura wheeled himself forward, right to the edge of the carpet, as close as he could get to Sanada. "Because even yakuza need to be able to read and write. They both have potential to go far, but I can't trust them with large business deals if they can't even read the name of the destination on their boarding passes." He looked steadily at Sanada, and could see that Sanada understood. "Anyway, continue. Don't let me disturb you."

"I was finishing already..."

"You're being needlessly considerate." Yukimura's eyes held Sanada's, shrugging when Sanada refused to say that he was right. "Fine. Sit down, we'll talk."

Sanada put the sword away, wiped his face with a towel and sat down on his heels, knees apart and back straight.

"I haven't had a chance to say this before. Thank you for your hard work over the years, and sorry for all the trouble when the car crash happened.

"It was simply my duty, Young Master."

"Perhaps. But I could have returned to find Rikkai stolen from me. I've watched you work by my father's side and I knew you were loyal, but there was no guarantee you would treat me the same. It turns out you are just stupidly loyal and I shouldn't have worried."

Sanada couldn't decide if that was praise or insult. "May I ask a question?"

"Of course."

"If you weren't sure of my loyalty, why did you hand Rikkai to me? Renji was there. A lot of other capable people were there for you to choose from. And was there anything I had done that made you doubt me in the first place?"

"That's two questions," Yukimura pointed out, chuckling. "The answer to your first question: because Rikkai would still have prospered if led by you. I thought about it on the ambulance, and decided the future of Rikkai as a whole is more important than my claim on it. And if I wanted to, I would win it back from you. Not that I was wanting to go to war with you, of course."

Sanada's laugh was uneasy. He could not imagine making Yukimura his enemy.

"As for the second question... it's actually something I've been wanting to talk to you about." Yukimura paused for a second. "Genichirou, what do you think about me?"

Sanada felt his chest tighten in fear. "I don't understand the question..."

Yukimura wheeled forward, obviously deciding he couldn't care less about the flooring. "I used to think I know you." His chair stopped two feet away from Sanada. "I just reached teenage when you joined Rikkai, I remember. That was..."

"Thirteen years ago."

"Thirteen years we've known each other. But for the last few years, you've treated me with cold politeness, like I'm just your boss's son. Like I'm a stranger. What the hell happened? Was it something I did? Do you despise me?"

Sanada's fingers let go of the hakama they had been gripping, and palms laid down flat on the wood. His forehead touched the floor. "I respect you more than anyone, Young Master."

"I'd rather you look at me when you say that." Yukimura gritted his teeth, the sight of Sanada bowing at him not helping his mood. "And right now I don't care about your respect. I'm asking what the hell happened to our _friendship_."

Sanada had no reply to give.

"Renji said my father instructed you all to treat me as your superior, but you're taking it a lot further than you need to. Why? Genichirou, why have I lost my best friend? What have I done to deserve this?"

It took Sanada a whole minute to put together an answer. "Nothing has changed. You're my friend who happened to be my boss." He sat up again, his hands back on his knees, his eyes sincere yet unreadable at the same time. "I would give you my legs if that would let you walk again. I really would, Seiichi."

Light danced in Yukimura's eyes. The hard line of his mouth trembled, then he pulled back, wheels almost silent on the wood floor. "If you ever call me 'Young Master' again, I will expel you from Rikkai." He turned the chair around and made for the exit. "My father is dead. From now on, listen to me."

* * *

Sanada found out at the same time as everyone else did: too late. Akaya had been taken to Yukimura's office, where Renji, Yagyuu and a few of the other senior executives were already waiting.

Sanada stormed into the room and slapped Akaya so hard Akaya crashed onto the floor. He held his cheek, looked away, and didn't make a sound. He had made a mistake, a grave one, but Sanada knew his kobun had no idea just how grave.

Yukimura's expression was getting darker by the second. Akaya got to his knees. "I'm sorry, Yukimura-kumichou. That kid insulted you knowing he's on our turf, I couldn't just – "

"What did he say?"

"He said you're a cripple!"

"Akaya, I _am_ a cripple," said Yukimura. "You've damaged that Seigaku boy's knee. He happens to be Tezuka Kunimitsu's favourite. We're supposed to share sake with Seigaku tomorrow. That's a very big error of judgement from you."

"I'm sorry."

Jackal entered the office then, carrying a wooden box in his hands. Sanada felt his blood chill when Jackal placed it in front of Akaya, opening it to reveal a small, sharp knife resting on folded cloth.

Fear exploded within Akaya when he saw the objects; he was shaking visibly. "I... I..."

Sanada had no time to think. He knelt down beside Akaya. "Kumichou, Akaya is my responsibility. My finger would appease Seigaku a lot more than Akaya's."

"Sanada-san!"

"Shut up." Sanada unfolded the cloth, placed his left hand on it and with his right, reached for the knife. Without the alliance with Seigaku, Yukimura's situation would be a lot more dangerous. There was no way Akaya could have known, but that didn't make the situation better. Sanada had to make sure Seigaku was satisfied with the punishment. And Akaya shouldn't be punished for defending his kumichou.

"Enough!" Everyone was immediately silent when Yukimura raised his voice. "Whose idea is it to bring the box here? Did I say I want it used?" He shot a glare at Jackal, who grimaced and looked down. Yukimura wheeled himself around the desk. "Look at my legs. I will not have anybody amputating healthy body parts!"

"But Seigaku – "

"They value the alliance as much as we do. I've spoken to Tezuka on the phone, we agreed there were mistakes from both sides made by _children_. The ceremony will take place as planned. Akaya, you will pour sake for Tezuka tomorrow and formally apologise, just as his Echizen will do for me, then we'll move on. Genichirou, put that knife down right now or I'll run you over."

Renji was the one to crouch down and pack the knife and cloth again. He passed the box to Jackal. "Get rid of it."

"Everyone get out," said Yukimura. "Akaya, Genichirou. A word."

When the other members left, Yukimura's face visibly softened. He wheeled himself to Akaya, who had gotten up to his feet, and touched his hand briefly. "Thank you for standing up for me." He smiled when Akaya blushed. "Now go and do your English homework."

Sanada locked the door after Akaya hurried out looking somewhat embarrassed.

"Idiot. Stop and listen to me first; you almost lost a fingertip there."

Sanada flushed a bright red. "I didn't know you had it resolved with Seigaku already."

"I'd like to think I'm the kumichou by merit as well as by right. Seigaku might be strong, but I can handle them well enough to not result in a bloody mess." Yukimura laughed. "But it's not as if I don't know how hot-headed you are."

Sanada didn't know what to do but to bow and apologise some more. "I'm very sorry."

"I know you wanted to protect Akaya and me. Thank you."

"It's only my – " A pause. "It's nothing, Seiichi."

Smiling gently, Yukimura looked like a normal man of his age, not the head of one of the largest and the most powerful yakuza organisations in the country. "Sorry about what I said the other day; I was just frustrated. My father said something to you specifically didn't he?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Sanada shook his head.

"Sometimes I tell myself you wouldn't be you if you weren't so stubborn. But you really are so very stubborn." With an exaggerated sigh, Yukimura's shoulders sagged. "I'm tired. Help me to bed?"

The pair of bodyguards stationed outside Yukimura's bedroom opened the double doors for them. Yukimura thanked them and said goodnight.

"Wait," Yukimura stopped Sanada when the man made a move to lift him out of the wheelchair. "My pyjamas."

It took Sanada ten minutes to help Yukimura get changed. He had no idea how difficult it would be. But once that was done, Yukimura could arrange himself comfortably in bed by lifting his own legs.

"Yagyuu said I should get a missus to help me out," said Yukimura, chuckling. "And make some children. But I don't think so."

"Why?"

"Do you think I should, too?"

"I just always assumed you would. You can keep Rikkai within the family."

"I have uncles and cousins for that," said Yukimura. "Think about it. Does the sort of woman I'd be willing to marry actually exist?"

"Perhaps not..." It wasn't a topic Sanada had much to say about. It was true, though. Someone Yukimura valued enough to want to make her wife. She would be difficult to find – if she existed at all. "Anyway, it'll be a long day tomorrow. Sleep well."

When Sanada flicked the light off and was just about to let himself out, he heard a question in the darkness.

"Genichirou, do you want me to get married?"

"Why are you asking me? It's your choice."

"Never mind. I think I'm mistaken," Yukimura said. "Goodnight."

* * *

Marui arranged the security for the day. He, Renji and Sanada reviewed all the aspects and every person they were using and examined the hotel's banquet hall. There was nothing Sanada or Renji could pick on.

"See?" For once, Marui wasn't chewing some gum. "With me here, nothing's ever gonna happen."

For the ceremony, members from both sides turned up in immaculate suits, Rikkai in black and Seigaku in white, except for the leaders, who wore kimono. The boy from Seigaku walked with a slight limp, but it didn't look like it was hurting him much.

There was nothing particularly memorable about the ceremony, apart from Tezuka Kunimitsu mentioning Rikkai's termination of Higa, which was "expertly and thoroughly executed." Akaya's grin was so wide it took over his whole face.

Everything ran like clockwork, as an event Renji organised always would. The entertainment Niou picked was of good taste, the food quite exceptional, but most of it went right over Sanada's head. Perhaps it was the stress catching up with him, and the alcohol was not helping. Satisfied with Marui's arrangements and Akaya's behaviour, he let himself drink, occasionally have bits of conversations with Yukimura or Renji, but he mostly just drank. It didn't affect him too much; he was the type that naturally had a high tolerance. It gave him a buzz in the head that helped him deal with the large crowd when he had to stand and accept the round of applause as Yukimura formally appointed him as the new underboss.

And then suddenly, the banquet was winding down and someone was kneeling beside Yukimura, respectfully asking him if he wanted to retire to the room they had booked upstairs.

"No, I will be going home."

Using the hotel room would be a lot easier for Yukimura, but if that was what the kumichou decided, nobody was going to argue, At the door, Yukimura shook hands with Tezuka, they wished each other good health, then Tezuka's group left first.

"Genichirou, wait for me here," said Yukimura. "Marui." He gestured for the head of security for a quick word. A while later, Marui announced two of the teams were going upstairs and the rest were to return to the base with the kumichou.

Renji and Sanada exchanged a look.

The row of black American cars were waiting outside the hotel. Jackal held open the door whilst Sanada helped Yukimura into the car. Having checked that the kumichou was sitting comfortably and had buckled up, Jackal was about to shut the door, but Yukimura spoke.

"I saw that you enjoyed yourself tonight, Jackal. You've drunk quite a bit."

"Only a little, kumichou."

"Then I don't want you to drive. The last thing I want is another car crash." Yukimura leaned out a little. "Akaya."

Standing a few feet away, Akaya abandoned his conversation with Niou right away. "Yes, Yukimura-kumichou."

"Drive us home."

Akaya's eyes grew wide as they roamed over the customised Lincoln, huge, black, expensive and polished to a gleam, the very symbol of yakuza. "Really? I can drive this?"

On a normal day, Sanada would consider smacking Akaya on the head for asking unnecessary questions, but tonight was different. He turned to Jackal instead. "Ride with Renji and Yagyuu in the car behind."

Despite Akaya looking like he was going to explode with excitement, the ride home was a peaceful and comfortable cruise. Flanked by cars on every side, then by bodyguards when they arrived, Sanada thought even air would have trouble getting to Yukimura, much less a bullet.

He waited with Yukimura in the bedroom. Quite soon, the phone rang. Yukimura held it so that both he and Sanada could listen.

"Just like you predicted, there was a guy in the room. He tried climbing out the window, but we've got him. I'm afraid he can't talk anymore..." The voice belonged to Marui, who was obviously chewing on something again. "...though I've got his pager in my hand right now."

Sanada felt air in his lungs again. He hadn't realised he'd stopped breathing.

"Well done." Yukimura visibly relaxed. "And who was the last person to have paged him?"

Marui gave a name. It was who Sanada thought it would be.

After he hung up, Yukimura sent Sanada to get something to drink. Sanada took the opportunity to brief Renji quickly on what happened, then went back to his boss with a bottle of whisky, a tub of ice and two glasses. What Yukimura was thinking at that moment, he could not guess. One of their own went against the very essence of the yakuza – the absolute loyalty, the willingness to lay down one's life for his boss – and betrayed Rikkai. Sanada could not think of anything that could be worse than this.

"How unfortunate for them, that I'm no Banzuiin Chobei," Yukimura mused over the edge of his glass, watching ice cubes floating in golden liquid. "If they thought I'd just let myself be killed, they'll have to think again."

"You should've told me about this plan."

"I was hoping I was wrong." Yukimura drained his glass and held it out to be refilled. "I didn't even tell Marui until the last minute."

Sanada just sighed, not wanting to argue. The whisky was mixing with the sake from earlier, and the effect was telling him that he didn't want to think about that right now.

Finally, Yukimura put down his drink. "Genichirou... does it bother you that I can't walk?"

"No. Why do you say that?"

"I'm half drunk and vulnerable. What are you waiting for?"

Sanada did not trust his own ears, or his brain's interpretation of those words – it had to be the alcohol playing tricks on his mind. But then Yukimura went to the bed, and trailed his fingers on the covers, his eyes fixed on Sanada's.

Sanada put his drink aside, and lifted Yukimura from his chair, onto the bed.

* * *

"Do you know what I'm thinking, Genichirou?"

"No."

"That I've been very thoroughly fucked and I'm staying in bed tomorrow."

"Ah..."

"And is this what you wanted with me? Was it giri, or ninjou?" Yukimura lazily turned his head to face the man beside him. Sanada didn't want to meet his eyes. "We've just had sex. You could at least be honest now; I won't be offended either way."

Sanada stared at the ceiling, trying to tell himself this was all real. "I think about it often," he admitted. "But I never thought you'd... well."

"I like you," said Yukimura. "A lot."

* * *

Renji let himself in the next morning by using the combination lock and found them, still in bed, partially covered. He didn't comment or even raise an eyebrow. "I've told Marui to keep it quiet. 'The man at the hotel fell to his death, we have no idea where he came from or who he was working for' is the public statement at the moment."

"Good." Yukimura pushed himself to sit up, and winced. This time Renji could not hide his smile. Yukimura glared at him. Sanada just wished he could disappear. "Wipe that smirk off your face and get someone to make me something to eat. There better be grilled fish and soup waiting for me when I'm showered and dressed."

"Yes, kumichou." Renji backed towards the door. "I'll get someone to change your sheets as well." He let himself out before Yukimura could throw a pillow at him.

Yukimura flopped down across Sanada's chest, winced again, then laughed.

"You seem very relaxed about it all," Sanada couldn't help but say.

"Renji is _Renji_. After knowing us all this time, I don't think anything surprises him anymore."

That was true. "I'm talking about Nagoya Seitoku."

"Them?" Yukimura's smile was cold, his eyes cunning. "I'll deal with them soon. They won't know what'd hit them."

There was a plan there somewhere, and Sanada could guess at least half of it. Nagoya Seitoku, despite giving themselves a Japanese name, were foreign mafia. Whereas yakuza were semi-legalised – or at least accepted – criminals who wore badges bearing their syndicate's symbol and hung a sign outside their base proudly, mafia hid in the shadows, where the normal people could not see. If Rikkai were going to eradicate them, they would first need to find their hiding spot, which Sanada doubted was really in Nagoya. Renji had probably already assigned someone to tail the traitor.

Later on, after they'd cleaned up – Yukimura seemed surprised when Sanada helped him with the shower – Sanada found himself subject to the loud voice of Kirihara Akaya, who had been arranging shoes in the entrance way.

"Sanada-san!" He tossed down the shoes in his hand, ran up to Sanada, dodging and bowing to Yagyuu, who he nearly ran into. "Where did you go! Someone tried to kill Yukimura-kumichou last night and then you disappeared and – " He cut himself off abruptly when he saw Yukimura. "Kumichou, good morn – afternoon!"

Yukimura was quite amused. "As you can see, Genichirou is fine. Go finish your job before someone trips over."

After eating, they sat in the main room, nursing cups of tie guan yin. There wasn't much Sanada could say or do right now, particularly not with all the bodyguards planted all around them. He couldn't ask Yukimura for the details of his plan, or to verify what he had said in bed last night – which still seemed surreal so many hours later. But by now, Sanada had learned that life in yakuza, and life with Yukimura, was never normal.

Just thinking about it was threatening to make him smile like an idiot.

"Akaya is doing well," Yukimura suddenly said. "The trip to Hong Kong has done him good."

"I wish I could say the same for my sanity." Sanada rolled his eyes. They needed a fresh face with a fairly-clean record who could travel abroad, and Akaya was efficient and ruthless when needed, but at times Sanada thought strangling him was a better option.

"He looks up to you a lot, I can tell. You're like a father to him."

"I'd hang myself in shame if I had a son like him," Sanada deadpanned.

"Oh, and I was just going to say I wouldn't mind having one like him. We can make Renji the babysitter."

Sanada fought down the urge to bury his head in his lap. If anyone else in the room thought there was something unusual in Yukimura's words, or in the way Yukimura winked, there was no sign of it. It did not actually surprise Sanada; the underlings never questioned, or even thought about questioning. That had always been the way, just as he never questioned Yukimura.

Sanada's saving grace came in the form of Yanagi Renji, who strolled in and announced they had pinpointed Nagoya Seitoku's location in the outskirts of Tokyo.

"Genichirou, contact Seigaku and tell them we'll be operating on their turf. Politely ask for their cooperation." Yukimura put his cup down. The teasing side of him vanished in an instant. "Our man will be returning with a few of his friends; I'd like to talk to him. Then Renji, send word out to annihilate Nagoya Seitoku."

* * *

They stank. Sanada had no idea what these foreigners ate, but they reeked of a fermenting mix of garlic and fastfood and beer and onions, making him want to be sick. He and his gang had gotten rid of all those that followed the traitor into Kanagawa. The traitor had gone back into the base, oblivious of all this. Rikkai's new bond with Seigaku, and the failure last night, had made them desperate and easy to predict, yet Sanada had to admire how Yukimura had them like they were his string puppets.

Now he watched the rest of it unfold, as Yukimura instructed him to. Whatever happened, he must not interfere.

Yukimura was being pushed out by Jackal, onto Rikkai's back garden – acres upon acres of undeveloped fields, occasionally spotted with natural springs. It seemed like they were casually chatting.

Then Jackal put the brake down on the wheelchair and walked ahead. He reached inside his jacket.

Sanada ran. He didn't care about the instructions, or how Yukimura's words "I'm no Banzuiin Chobei" were ringing in his head and he had to just _believe_. He was too far away and Sanada couldn't travel any faster than his legs would take him, but out of the corner of his eyes he saw Akaya spring into action, pulling out the only weapon he had – a knife – and ran screaming towards Jackal.

Jackal yelled something in English and opened fire at Akaya. He missed, then froze.

Merely inches away from Jackal stood Yukimura, the wheelchair empty and abandoned behind him, the tip of his gun brushing against Jackal's side. Jackal's hand slackened. And then he was the one in the wheelchair, bleeding in the legs, staining the soil of Rikkai a deep red.

Akaya borrowed Yukimura's gun and shot Jackal in the face.

"Am seaweed head not," said Akaya, tongue curling to pronounce heavily-accented English. He added one more bullet to the bald head. "Bloody no-hair bastard."

Yagyuu would be proud, Sanada thought.

Yukimura was looking at him. Sanada was torn between holding him and slapping him across the face. He chose neither.

"You lied."

"It's strategy. It made them let their guard down subconsciously and showed me who my real allies are." Yukimura said, his voice carefully controlled. "You should've known. I wasn't quite able to keep my legs still last night."

Blood rushed to Sanada's face. He had not been paying attention to that sort of detail.

"Are you mad at me?"

Sanada stalked away without a word.

* * *

Cicadas chirped under the moonlight that illuminated the dojo, where Sanada was practising. The summer night was cool, the way he liked it, and he left all the side panels open so that the breeze could come inside.

"I like this actor's rendition of Chobei better than the previous one." Sitting down, leaning against one of the many wooden pillars, Yukimura turned over the kabuki programme in his hands. Just like Sanada, he was dressed in hakama, with no armour on, but it didn't seem like he intended to pick up the sword anyway. "He is more... what's the word? 'Gallant'."

He rambled on for a while, even though it seemed like Sanada wasn't listening. "I didn't realise they'd got a new lead and extended the run. Thanks for taking me tonight."

Sanada paused. "You're welcome."

"I love this play for its fatalistic romanticism," said Yukimura, putting the programme aside, "but letting myself be killed is not something I'd ever do. Why did you ignore my instruction?"

The answer that came immediately to Sanada was "because I didn't know you could walk", but even if Yukimura was on his feet back then, he would have done the same, there was no point to lie about it. "You know why."

"Yes, _now_. I didn't mean to abuse your feelings – I wasn't even sure if there were any feelings. I wasn't making myself sit in a wheelchair to test or hurt you."

"I know."

"A cripple's life wasn't a dignified one, you know? My legs _were_ broken – then they healed, but I had to keep sitting down and accept help for the smallest things. Like going to the toilet." Yukimura's gaze swept from his own legs up to Sanada. "But it was fun when you tried to help me get changed and put me in bed. You became quite adept after a few times."

"It's reassuring to know I can work in a care home if I lose my job here." Somehow, Sanada didn't feel angry anymore. He probably wasn't very angry to start with, but it was a matter of principle to not be pleased about having been lied to.

Yukimura laughed. "The old ladies won't be so fortunate; I have no plans of letting you go." He sat up a bit, looking more solemn now. "I apologise, Genichirou, for what I've done. Please forgive me."

Down on his knees in an instant, Sanada bowed as low as he could. "I am unworthy. Your words and actions are always absolute; I am very sorry about my earlier behaviour."

"You're mistaken. I'm not talking to my underboss, but to the man who took me to bed."

Sanada raised his head from the floor. "Seiichi..."

"Well, are you going to help me up or not? I'm tired of sitting down."

Sanada smiled, got on his feet, and took Yukimura's hand.

* * *

-end-

* * *

Notes, for the geeks:

Banzuiin Chobei (幡随院長兵衛) - a machi-yakko in the 17th century. The machi-yakko (servants of the town) were bands of young townsmen who formed to fend off the attacks by hatamoto-yakko (servants of the shogun), who inflicted fear and resentment amongst the common people. The machi-yakko were adept at gambling, and developed close relationships with their leaders that may well have been a precedent for the tightly organised yakuza. The yakuza, who see themselves as honourable outlaws who adopt the ways of the samurai, look upon the machi-yakko as their spiritual ancestors.

One of the most celebrated tales of the machi-yakko is that of Banzuiin Chobei, the leader of Tokyo's machi-yakko, whose life story is told in many different art forms. The circumstances leading to his death are unclear, but most believe he was killed by his archenemy Mizuno Jurozaemon, leader of Tokyo's hatamoto-yakko. In one particular kabuki play, _Kiwametsuki Banzuiin Chobei_ (the play Yukimura and Sanada watched), Chobei accepted an invitation to Mizuno's banquet, knowing that it was a trap. Before he was murdered, he said to Mizuno, "...I offer my life to you in good grace. I knew I would be killed if I came here; but, if it was rumoured that Chobei, who had built up a reputation as a machi-yakko, held his life so dearly, it would be an everlasting disgrace upon my name..."

Giri (義理) and ninjou (人情) - Giri is often described as a uniquely Japanese concept with no English equivalent. It loosely relates to obligation, the sense of duty, and is tied with the Japanese values involving loyalty, gratitude and moral debt. Some describe it as "the social cloth that binds much of Japan together".

Ninjou is about human feelings and emotions, and can be interpreted as many things from generosity, to sympathy for the weak, to empathy towards others. It is typically used in conjunction with giri, and the tension created by obligation and compassion forms a central theme in much of Japanese literature and media. The yakuza, who are keen on enhancing their standing in society, often adopt giri-ninjou to show that, like the best samurai, they can combine compassion and kindness with their martial skills.

To illustrate the importance of this concept, Inagawa Kakuji, former kumichou of Inagawa-kai, once said, "the yakuza are trying to pursue the road of chivalry and patriotism. That's our biggest difference with the American Mafia, it's our sense of giri and ninjou..."

In this light, what Yukimura asked Sanada was whether Sanada slept with him out of his sense of duty (that the oyabun, and of course the kumichou, holds absolute power and is always right. A saying amongst yakuza goes, "if the oyabun says the passing crow is white, then it is so.") or out of compassion and love.


End file.
